Number of Tracks:7 Vinyl Size:12-inch Revolutions:33rpm Vinyl Color:Clear Jacket:Reverse Board (Vintage Matte)
Limbo is the name of the third full-length from Polish psychedelic wanderers Lastryko, released this past July through Necio Records, and “Limbo,” in various stages, is precisely where side B of the outing ends up. That’s not a statement on the Gdynia four-piece being staid or anything, but “Limbo” is the name of three of the four tracks on the album’s back half, and the final one would seem to pick up from there into a final drifting nothingness, both in how its title is constructed following a count from the songs prior and in terms of its outward melodic drone, vast and empty.
Before Lastryko get there, the three songs on side A of the seven-track/37-minute LP — “C•A,” “Firmament” and “8 kropel” — run a course of dream-jazz and progressive space rock that at times gives itself over wholly to krautrock vibing but also has shades of more modern post-rock in some of its shimmering guitar, say, in the midsection of the opener, or in the key flourish of “Firmament.” As side A builds from its shortest cut to its longest and “8 kropel” tops seven minutes of mostly-instrumental, mellow jamming, the procession seems to draw itself to a finish not so much with a huge climax, but a steady, hypnotic movement.
The first section of “Limbo,” listed as “Limbo•,” is a droning precursor to the concluding “••••” and gives way to “Limbo••” directly, a kick of drums marking the arrival of the 7:42 installment that’s the longest piece on the album. Proggy guitar strum and synthesizer lines are interwoven smoothly and a wash subtly builds up that seems to consume the track in its second half, leaving just the drums behind to transition into “Limbo•••.” This time it’s the guitar returning that marks the change, and an almost surf/island feel in the echoing guitar — in another context, one might liken that airiness to Yawning Man — noodles out across the expanse, the flow crafted sounding organic in its atmosphere in a way that few such thoughtful and obviously considered offerings could hope to.
“Limbo•••” drifts into silence from which “••••” picks up and ends the album peacefully, not void of movement, but ambient and quiet enough to get the point of stillness across anyhow. In some ways, Limbo almost feels like two EPs put together to make one full-length, but hell, it works on a straight-through listen, so I’m not at all inclined to argue. I have the pleasure today of hosting the tripped-out video for “Firmament” which you’ll find below, the visuals doing well to bolster the atmosphere of the song and the vintage-futurism the record conveys.